From Sara With Love
by SaraStar
Summary: GregSara. While Greg's dealing with Sara's sudden death, he discovers a diary in the back of her locker, with things written in it he'd never expect to read. Adressed to... him.


_Another story by me. I came up with this idea a few days ago and I got pretty happy with it. I hope you guys will like it. Eva._

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_**Prologue // Gone. **

What was he doing here? It was a question that spooked through Greg's mind frequently, as he stood there in his black suit, staring at his reflection in the mirror of the deserted men's bathroom. A death pale guy looked back at him, fear flashing in both of his brown eyes, shoulders hanging. Looking at that pathetic, miserable figure in front of him, Greg almost felt sorry for himself. If he'd see anyone looking this helpless, he'd walk right up to that person and give him or her a hug. Or at least whisper some words of support and sympathy.

But he didn't need words of support. Neither did he need sympathy or an embrace. The only he needed right now was, ironically, the only the thing he _couldn't _get. He needed _her_.

If she were here, all she would have to do was give him a smile. Seeing her smile made him fill with warmth. Her smile had the power to let the sad thoughts haunting his mind fade into happiness.

If she were here, she'd lighten up his mood by just waving at him, or greeting.

But more importantly, if she were here, he wouldn't be miserable at all. Because the actual cause of his sadness was the fact that she wasn't here.

He felt dizzy of all a sudden. Holding onto the sink, he bent forward and closed his eyes.

She appeared in front of his eyes immediately. She wore her dark blue bulletproof vest, held a camera in her hands. Her brown hair danced around her face on the wind. The breath-taking gap-tooth smile shone at him.

Now she was holding her hand onto his chest, her face a few inches away from his. Her words rang in his mind as if it were yesterday. _"I could really, really just kiss you right now." _

She was walking up to him, a bright smile upon her face, and wrapped her arms around him, into a long hug.

Greg could almost feel her embrace, could almost feel her arms around him tightly. Safe.

He desperately tried to hold onto her. This moment had to last. Forever. He was never going to let her go.

She was there. She held him. He held her. Forever.

The door of the men's bathroom flew open suddenly. Greg jumped, opening his eyes quickly.

"Here you are, Greggo." It was Nick. He looked at Greg concerned. "I was looking for you. We can… we can go to see her."

Greg hang his head. The moment had passed. He was thrown back to reality.

"I'll… I'll be out soon."

Nick nodded. "Sure."

Greg turned towards the mirror again. He waited for Nick to leave. He didn't.

"Greg, are you… are you alright?"

Alright. Was he alright? Sure. He'd be alright if she suddenly burst into the bathroom, yelling what was keeping them so long. He'd be alright if he were sitting in front of her at the breakroom table right now, discussing their current case. He'd be alright if he woke up now in cold sweat, finally escaped from this nightmare.

Then he'd be alright. But now? No. He definitely wasn't alright. Not the tiniest bit.

"I'm okay, Nick. I'll be out soon," he repeated.

Nick stared at him for a few seconds, then shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave the bathroom.

Greg took a deep breath when we heard the door shutting. He looked at his reflection in the mirror once again and then decided it was time to stop drowning himself in self-pity. She wouldn't want him to do that. He was sure about that.

So while grabbing the confidance he was soon going to need, he pulled the door open and walked out of the bathroom.

He walked along the corridor, headed to the room he dread to go into so much. But he had dreaded his first autopsy too, as well as his first time processing a crime scene.

And all of those times she had dragged him through it. Sometimes without even knowing it. The fact that he always got to work together with her helped him more than any of his classes and studying.

But this time? Was he going to manage this without her?

Greg held his breath as he stepped through the door. Catherine, Nick and Warrick surrounded the white coffin in the corner of the room. Catherine was sobbing softly, comforted by Warrick's arm around her shoulders.

Grissom was sitting on a chair at the other side of the room, apparently lost in his own world. He didn't seem to acknowledge anything going on around him.

As Greg entered, Nick turned around and nodded at him. He whispered something to Warrick and Catherine, and the three of them walked away from the coffin.

It was his turn now. His heart was hammering in his chest as he moved towards the coffin slowly. His hand holding the rose was shaking uncontrollably.

She seemed so small. Her eyes were closed, giving her face a peaceful expression. It was surrounded by strands of her beautiful brown hair.

Greg stared at her. It felt so unreal, how she was lying there. As if any moment she could open her eyes again and smile at him. Even though rationally he knew that wasn't possible, somehow he was waiting for her to do that.

He didn't want to remember her like this. His eyes went to the photo that had been placed next to the coffin.

She looked at the camera, smiling a little bit forced, as if she didn't want the picture to be taken, but couldn't refuse. He knew she hated it when people took photos of her. And that was exactly why he loved that photo. It was Sara as he knew her. The Sara Sidle he loved.

Slowly he bent over and placed the rose into her hands. He pulled back as he touched her skin and gasped.

Then he put his hand over her's, this time not pulling back.

"Goodbye, Sara."

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**To be continued. Please let me know what you think. :)**


End file.
